


Tugging on My Heart(strings)

by keyflight790



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Blindfolds, For Charlie to fuck Neville again, Happy Ending, Kissing, M/M, Mentions of Future Plans, Mentions of Norberta, Mentions of removing her heart for SCIENCE, Neville's wearing a cardigan, She died, Spanking, Top Charlie Weasley, Whelp, Yes he looks dashing in it, dom!Charlie Weasley, mentions of Drarry, mentions of Linny - Freeform, mentions of everything Spooky loves, mentions of how much the author loves Spooky, mentions of other relationships, remember Hagrids dragon?, sorry., sub!Neville Longbottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2020-05-02 04:18:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19191694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keyflight790/pseuds/keyflight790
Summary: Neville travels to Romania to gather some much needed potions, and Charlie delivers.





	Tugging on My Heart(strings)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [spookywoods](https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookywoods/gifts).



> Thank you to darlings @malenkayacherepakha and @april-thelightfury115 for the excellent beta work!
> 
> Spooky, I am so glad we met through this fandom! I have so much fun writing for you (esp. this pairing MY GODS was this fun!). I hope you enjoy the little bits, the secret bits in there just for you, and that you have an amazing summer!!!

Norberta had passed. 

Hagrid was devastated, of course. “I was her ma, now wasn’t I,” he cried, head buried into one of Neville’s cardigans. Neville tried to pat his fellow professor’s back in sympathy, but he could only reach the outer edge of his arm. Still, it seemed to help, as Hagrid let out one more sniffle before rubbing his nose on the length of Neville’s jumper.

He’d have to add a stringent Scourgify to the green and amber fabric when he threw it in the washing bin later. 

The news of Norberta also came with a note to him from Charlie Weasley. Deceased dragons, while certainly sad, also brought some Magical properties that could be suitable for his garden. Specifically Dragon Heartstrings.

He’d have to package a few, of course, to bring back to Harry and Ollivander’s shared shop, but the remainder were exactly what he’d been waiting for. He was desperately hoping to feed the elements to his Cognito Tentacula. His hope was the nutrient-rich protein would produce exactly the sap that Draco needed for his latest memory-mending potion. 

If it worked, he might finally get to meet his parents. Really meet them.

McGonagall had already arranged for his portkey by the time he made it back to the castle, and after a quick pack and an excited floocall to Mr. and Mr. Potter-Malfoy, Neville headed off to Romania. 

A yank behind his navel and he was at his arrival point, a grassy knoll that overlooked a bubbling river. He peered off into the distance and saw a group of Welsh Greens, more resembling moss-covered boulders than fire-breathing dragons. 

Charlie wrapped him in a quick hug, a swift pat on the back, and then hurried them down the hill. “The heart won’t stay fresh too long,” he shouted over his shoulder, his tight, hunter green robes flapping in the wind as he barreled toward the camps.

Neville couldn’t help but watch how the fabric whipped around his back, how long his strides were, how confidently he moved, while Neville himself bumbled along behind looking like a right buffoon. His own red cardigan stood out like a flag along the green hills, and he could already feel sweat pooling around the collar, dripping down his spine in the heat.

Still, he trudged along until they finally reached what he initially thought was a small mountain, but on closer inspection was actually Norberta. She looked older, her black ridges more grey, her scales a murky brown. 

“How did she die?” Neville asked.

“Old age.” Charlie nodded towards a neighbouring valley. “Delivered fourteen whelps.”

Neville smiled as he saw the tiny dragons playing in the gorge below. “Better not let Hagrid know.”

“I sent him a baby picture; wrote me a letter back that he was so happy to be a grandmother.”

Neville chuckled, then turned back to the dragon.

“So how do we…” he pointed his wand where he assumed the heart would be.

“Actually a spell. Can I show you?”

Neville nodded, and held his breath as Charlie circled around his back, placing his hand over Neville’s. When he spoke again, his breath was hot against Neville’s ear.

“Cor Meum Accipere,” Charlie said as he moved Neville’s hand in a clockwise circle, shifting their hips so his wand pointed directly at the dragon. “Feel that?”

“Mmhmm,” Neville murmured. He did feel a little pull, like a marble trying to eradicate itself from paned glass, but he also felt a hint of something, soft but all so enticing under Charlie’s robes. He pushed back, trying to feel it again as Charlie showed him the motion one more time.

“Harder,” Charlie said, and Neville could feel Charlie’s hand tighten over his wand-yielding hand. 

He blushed. “Really?”

“Yeah, need to make your wand snap harder if you’ve any chance of getting the heart out in one piece.” Charlie adjusted his stance, and Neville could feel his body envelope him more. “Here, let me show you.”

Charlie moved his arm, his hand, his wand, sure and strong, and Neville felt it again. The tug of the heart but also -

“Mmm,” he let out a moan as Charlie canted his hips. Neville felt Charlie’s hardening cock across his backside, and suddenly the heart and its strings didn’t seem like such an important thing. 

“Down, lion,” Charlie murmured into Neville’s ear. “We can get to that as soon as we’re done with this.”

\---

Pulling the heart from the beast took longer than Neville thought it should, especially given that he was utterly distracted, requiring Charlie to show him the spell at least two more times before it was successful. The heart was beautiful though, and Neville would be sure to get some wonderful samples once he returned to London with the Stasis heart in tow.

They celebrated, cracking open a litre of whisky, mixing it with some sparkling fizz. Neville conjured a lemon tree from a sapling and twisted the bitter liquid into each of their glasses, coating the sides of the rim with tartness. Charlie cooked up a wild rabbit, and added in some vegetables from the community garden to round out the meal.

It was delicious, hearty and warm, and the alcohol made Neville a little giddy. He told Charlie jokes from back home, stories about Ginny and Luna, and how perfect they were for each other, and Harry and Draco, and how they always fought and always made up...loudly, often not even waiting until their guests had disappeared from the latest get-together. 

“Want some dessert?” Charlie asked. He stood and headed to the icebox. “We’ve got some leftover pie, blueberry tart, er, vanilla ice cream…”

“Vanilla?” Neville asked, pouring himself another finger of dark liquid. “I always heard you were more adventurous than that.” He could feel his cheeks burning as he downed another glass. 

Charlie smirked and closed the door. He walked towards Neville’s chair and nudged his way in between his legs. “Did you now,” he said, placing a hand on Neville’s thighs.

“Mmm.”

“Are you interested in something a little more...exciting for dessert, Longbottom?”

Neville nodded. Once again he could feel Charlie’s hot breath on his cheek, and for a second it reminded him of fire. Fire that wanted to engulf him.

“Limits?” Charlie asked, crooking his eyebrow.

Neville bit his lip. He’d played before, but it had been a while. “No permanent marks. My safeword is Snape.”

Charlie laughed at that. “Mine too, mate,” he nodded. “Let me know if anything else comes up, yeah?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh gods,” Charlie breathed out heavily. “I want you to walk to my room, third door on the right. Take off your clothes and get on your knees.”

“Yes, sir,” Neville replied, his voice shaking already. He’d hoped this would be a possibility. Charlie had always been a bit of a legend in the Gryffindor dormitory, and he was finally going to get to find out if the rumours lived up to the man.

Neville didn’t think he’d ever lost his cardigan faster than he did as soon as he walked into Charlie’s room. He did a quick scan, noting the four-poster with fluffy duvet, the single window looking out on a moonlit sky, an old broom propped in a corner. His eyes focused on the black trunk by the closet, a golden padlock dangling on the front. 

He wondered if that trunk was filled with toys, and if so, which ones. Neville had some favourites, leaning towards soft paddles and floggers over canes. Maybe the trunk held a ball gag, or some type of restraints, or,  _ Oh Gods _ , a blindfold which usually sent him deep into subspace.

“Alohamora.” Charlie’s command snapped him out of his thoughts as the trunk flipped open. Neville wanted to peer in, to search every drawer and box, discovering what Charlie’s toy collection looked like, but he kept his eyesight forward like a proper sub. He’d find out soon enough anyway.

“You’ve been teasing me all day.” Charlie was suddenly behind him, his crotch pressed up against Neville’s shoulder blades. “You could have gotten that spell on the first try, couldn’t you?” Charlie paused to empty air. “You may speak when I ask you a question.”

“Probaby,” Neville shrugged. He wasn’t pants at magic anymore. He’d grown into his skills, much like he’d grown into his desires. Still, a little innocence never hurt anyone.

“Smartass.” Charlie stood at the edge of the bed and tucked his hand under Neville’s chin. “I should teach you a lesson in proper wandcasting. Would you like that, pet?”

Neville shivered at the sweet name rolling from Charlie’s lips, from the way he already felt safe at Charlie’s touch. The way he already itched to find out what was in store for the both of them. 

“Hands on the mattress,” Charlie ordered, and Neville responded almost instantly. His legs felt like jelly but he stood, spreading his legs and trying to forget about his utter nakedness as he bent forward and placed his hands on the bed in front of him. The duvet felt so smooth and feathery in his hands, and he almost lost himself in the sensation of it before he heard a crack fill the room.

The flogger snapped across his backside, the sound so much louder than the actual impact. It felt good, the tassets leaving little tingles in its wake. 

“You’re going to look so good, baby,” Charlie groaned before spanking Neville again. “I’m going to make your arse as red as your cardigan, as red as those heartstrings.”

“Please, sir,” Neville answered, tucking his head between his arms. He rolled his hips, spreading his feet even further apart. He knew he was asking for more, and he hoped Charlie could deliver.

The whips came faster, driving down on his skin as fast and as merciless as an angered dragon, quickly replaced with soothing hands on heated skin until it began all over again.

“Gods, baby, your cock is leaking for me,” Charlie murmured, his mouth pressed against the globed cheeks of Neville’s arse. He placed little kisses up and down his cleft before standing up and beginning again.

Neville closed his eyes and clenched the soft sheets between his fingers as he felt the flogger replace the bare palm of Charlie’s hand. He moaned, arching back into it as Charlie spanked him with new fervor. 

His hand was powerful, calloused and raw against Neville’s sensitive backside, and the only thoughts he could grasp onto was  _ cold sheets _ and  _ breathe in and out _ and  _ more, oh gods, more, more, more _ . 

Another smack, this one on his upper thighs, and Neville yelped, loud and panting into the darkened room. 

“Yes,” Charlie paused, rubbing his tender skin with his palm. “Gods, you look so good like this. I just want to flip you over and have my way with you.”

Neville responded with a groan, shimmying his hips. He rutted desperately into the mattress as Charlie placed little smacks up and down his rift. Neville keened as he felt Charlie’s fingers tracing around his hole.

“Tell me, Neville,” Charlie commanded, letting the tip of his finger breach his need before withdrawing.

“Oh, fuck, Charlie, I want you so bad,” Neville whined, finally able to voice his thoughts. “Please fuck me, please,  _ please _ .”

Charlie ran his hands soothingly down Neville’s arched spine. “Up on the bed, all fours, pet.”

He rushed towards the headboard, gripping his hands around the slim metal poles. Charlie was there instantly, wrapping long strands of silk lovingly around Neville’s wrists, checking the give, the stretch, before completing each one with an intricate knot. 

“Wriggle your fingers,” Charlie added, watching closely as Neville tapped his fingers to the bars before climbing on the bed behind him. 

Neville moaned into the pressure of Charlie at his back, his fingers digging into his hips, then his chest. Another layer of silk wrapped around his eyes, tied sharp around his head. Charlie twisted the length around his fist and yanked, sending Neville’s head back, arching his throat. 

“Good boy,” Charlie praised as Neville settled into his binds, into the darkness. “Gonna give you my cock. Think you can handle it, my little whore?”

He couldn’t help but let out a guttural cry. Charlie yanked again on his blindfold, and Neville finally answered. “Yes, oh gods, sir, please, yes.”

Charlie’s fingers were hot and slick as they entered Neville’s arse. “That’s it baby, relax that needy little hole for me.”

Neville was panting, his world dropping to Charlie’s fingers, Charlie’s scent, Charlie’s words.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, can’t wait to feed you my cock, every fucking inch of it baby.”

He was moaning, but he couldn’t focus on the sounds dripping from his lips. His body was on the edge of a knife, waiting to slip off the thin, jagged sliver as soon as Charlie commanded. Instead he focused on the words coming out of Charlie’s mouth.

“That’s it baby, back up on my cock.” Neville felt Charlie’s fingers digging into his sides, coaxing him. He felt the push, the burn, the fill as Charlie slid into him. Neville grasped at the restraints as he tried to hold on, tried not to slip too early without permission.

Charlie fucked him, the heat of Neville’s backside slamming into Charlie’s thighs in perfect harmony, and all Neville could do was beg. 

“Please, please, fuck, please,” he cried into his darkness.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Charlie answered, draping himself over Neville’s back. “Your hole is mine. You’re all mine, darling.”

He held on, his cock throbbing, and he knew if it touched anything, the sheets, or  _ oh gods _ , Charlie’s palm, the same one that spanked him and rubbed him and coaxed him, that he’d come in an instant.

“Almost there,” Charlie said before slamming into him, three, four, five thrusts, and then finally,  _ finally _ , he wrapped his coarse, dragon taming hands around Neville’s desperate cock and whispered in his ear. “Come for me, Neville.”

\-- -- --

Neville awoke to the darkness, but he was no longer blindfolded. He could make out slivers of moonlight cascading through Charlie’s window, lighting up the gold lock of the trunk, the frayed tips of his broomstick.

“There he is,” Charlie pulled him closer to his chest and handed Neville a glass of water. “How you feeling?”

Neville yawned and took a sip. He flexed his wrists, wriggled his toes. His backside felt sore, but nothing he couldn’t handle. He knew he could spell away the pain if he wanted to, but he didn’t. He wanted this bit to take home with him to London in the morning.

“Good,” he answered, and burrowed his head into the crook of Charlie’s arm.

“Good.” Charlie kissed the top of his head. “McGonagall asked me to come do a lesson with Hagrid next month. Figured I could take one of Norberta’s whelps with me, before they get too old.”

“Mmm,” Neville acknowledged. He was fading fast, especially listening to Charlie’s soothing voice.

Charlie rubbed his hand up and down Neville’s arm. “Maybe I could take you out to dinner?”

“I’d like that.” Neville grinned before drifting off to sleep. 


End file.
